Spilling the Bourbon

fig03.9) this dense medicine

"While most of us are employed, our nebulous employers, the business owners and grifters hoarding their peacocks and sawmills have found the time for stealing the breath of our very union from us."

"Aren't the shadows perfect then," Ovid speaking. There's a pearl necktie, it's blue edges have sunk into the bottom of her perfect well. Two of her glasses have tipped when the radio echoed from it's side table. The trim plastic box is as mean and as white as a jar of frightened bees trembling. There's a mystery of towels sharing their smell and space with the temptations that children have hidden there.

"Testing our resolve will just continues this flawed model for exchange. It currently hides downstairs under the couch with the cable box. Wouldn't it be easier to admit that we've been experiencing some aspect of a system that's gone awry. That many of us are actively exercising our restraint against such universality. That the privilege of such nakedity is very scary."

"S'okay, more sex in the basement when the TV's on anyway. There's more sex by the pool when some drinks have spilled," oh Ovid.

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The apologist and the appraiser have decided to stay put

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Piles of leaves: Letters Campaign

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Not the Willem DeKooning Retrospective (Not Even Close)

Willem DeKooning, Excavation (1950) oil on canvas Yesterday at work I bumped into this piece by Donald Kuspit on DeKooning's retrospective over at Artnet . Then this morning I bumped into this one on L Magazine's site, by Paddy Johnson . I don't know that Paddy Johnson demystifies DeKooning as much as she takes issue with his pallet, declaring it repetitive and boorish en masse. By contrast, Donald Kuspit writes an article painting DeKooning as a sadistic brute inextricably tied to the modern tradition in general and Picasso specifically. Together they make for some interesting reading, particularly as Kuspit never addresses the show itself in favor of drawing his conclusions from individual works. While Johnson seems to wear the show like an imaginary wool shawl, noting it's uncomfortable, out of style, and the zipper is broken. But she doesn't seem to get to a place that addresses what was actually there either, only what she felt was missing or to her mind ...

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